Where the waves meet the sky
by Howlynn
Summary: Finnick Odair is on the hover craft and is remembering his mentor Mags. A peek at the relationship they shared and how he will carry on as if she still guides him. Mags and Finn-o were family and he must come to terms with her loss.


**Where the waves meets the sky.**

**I Disclaimer:All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**This is my first off class prompt for fan fiction – need to get out of Haymitch's head for a while – sober up a little and hope he gets rid of that hang-over before I go back to class stuff – lol. So this is my take on Finnick and his relationship with Mags. I love the victor / mentor dynamics and wanted to see what he was thinking after she died in the 75th Quell.**

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**"_Hang tight mighty Finn-o! Hang tight and beat to weather" I dream of the sea for a moment and a wizened old hand guiding me to tack our tiny craft through the storm. I wasn't afraid. I was with Old Mags. She'd been teaching Odairs to sail since the sea had spit us out. It was said Old Mags could calm the water. _**

Damned Haymitch Abernathy for talking us into this. I don't really like his girl on fire much right this minute, and I have to say even though I do like Peeta, I wish he were dead. I wish he and Annie were both dead and I could just slip beneath the waves of this life without having to see Mags in that fog. I wish something could take all this away. I was so determined to save her too. The waters would never be calm again.

Chumbucket over there with the scratched up face didn't show up in time. I know they had trouble, but he and that blow-fish of a game maker should have told us what a terrible place this arena was going to be. Blood rain, acid rain, some kind of stinging electric fog, monkey Mutts and those endless horrid Jabber jays. Heavensbee designed that nightmare, and if that's who my allies are, then we are in for an ocean of blood ahead.

Katniss just had to figure out the salt water would save me. Hate her, for not letting me slip to death on that beach. It was pain I had never felt, but it was beginning to fade as I was floating toward Mags.

That is who I need now. I need Mags. I didn't realize how lucky I was to have had her for my mentor. I mean she was as old as the sea and cantankerous as Calypso, but she is the one who could hold me right now and make the world calm. I swear Mags could tranquil any sea.

I glare at Haymitch. What I just saw between he and Katniss was disgusting. He should have saved Peeta like he promised her he would. I brought Peeta back to life, so Katniss will hate my guts once she figures out what they will do to him now that he is in the hands of the capital. Lanus Snow would chop off bits until Peeta was nothing but a breathing head and torso. If I had left him dead, I could have saved Mags. If Heavensbee had warned us, we could have saved Chaff too. He and Haymitch had been drinking buddies since I was learning to float. Johanna is gone. Annie is gone. Enobaria is gone. Maniacal, egotistical, heartless bastard that Haymitch.

Sits over there smirking like what he just did to his victor is ok. The things they said to each other were just about the nastiest things I have ever heard. She is no little flower of feminine charm to start with, and of course she's a victor so she's a deadly little witch on a good day, but even she doesn't deserve Haymitch. Charming Pretty Haymitch. Gone to ruin and sullenness and something I couldn't have guessed, spitefulness. I loved him long ago, looked up to him. I never knew what an icy berg he really is. Old fool and stupid girl still have each other. They could be comforting each other if…

If. If. If.

If Mags were here, I would tell her she was the most beautiful woman I ever knew. Funny when people only judge you on looks, you learn to look deeper. I am so pretty that they all fall apart about my every dripping utterance. Nobody really knows me inside. Mags and Annie. Annie and Mags. My girls. My loves. Not pretty on the outside by some standards, but more beautiful than a morning wave and the swirl of seafoam in sunrise on the inside. They knew me and now I didn't have them.

Mags would have her arms around me and be kissing my head as she patted my ear or singing to me like she did when I thought I was losing my mind during Annie's games. Her old wavering voice and lost speech would soothe me in her off key, fickle way. She would never yell at me like that. One look of disapproval was terrible enough. Her face filled with disappointment was critically lethal. Her anger would have stopped my heart.

Her love was incontestable.

She took Annie's place. She never questioned that she could hope to survive the Quell, but she took her place beside me and I could never have been more proud. To have anyone beside me for this terrible adventure, she was my best girl. Haymich was called and Peeta took his place. Mags would have stopped any of the young ones from doing that with one hard look. I don't ever remember her being really mad at anyone.

Mags had looked about the same when I was little. They say she was Muir in her day. I had seen the pictures, and never was there a maid such as Mags. Tiny little compact person with a huge smile and soft seablue sky eyes. She was a fisher, sailor and diver. She was a rider of the waves. She had it all. She was engaged to a great Uncle of mine. She had been trained, but she would be out of the reaping in a month. Her name was not called. Her best friend's name was. Her best friend who was three days away from getting married and about to Pup. Mags volunteered.

In our district, of careers and regular volunteers, they don't cart us away at the point of a gun. We don't have the ten-minute limit to say good-bye to loved ones. We have a beach party. The peace-keepers are there of course, but included as invited guests. They have no need to force us; people of the sea are too brave to ever try to run. We leave the games with pride. We hate them too, of course, but we dance on rougher water than most, so dieing is done with pleasure.

Mags saved my great grandmother. My grandfather was born by the time she returned. The one she loved died at sea before she got home. She didn't want me to train. I didn't intend to volunteer. Baits Masterson volunteered for twelve year old Chumly Sanders as was expected when a hatchling is drawn. But I knew a secret and the sorrow in my sister's face as she watched her lover solemnly mount the stairs, and quietly take his place sent a wave of bravado through me.

I was just on the crest of fifteen, feeling invincible and I waved and hopped up on that stage with confident stay. I ginned at Mags and she grinned in pride. Everyone cheered my name and I was lost in the wonder of my own foolishness.

Her voice broke in my ear as she gave me a proper Mentor hug. "You're a curse to us Finn-o. You have cursed us all."

I looked at her in confusion and ruffled her hair as she clung to me like a vice waiting for anyone else to volunteer. Ships out in the harbor began tooting and honking my call to the beach. We were a cheerful parade and sashayed down to the water. This was my day and the tough looking girl and I lead the dancing, laughing, drinking. We were each dressed in plain sea shrouds and treated like gods for a few hours.

At midnight, the old Gods and the new, were carried by poled seats of honor to the train. Prayers were sung for our souls and off we went, to conquest or casualty. I watched district four lights fade and turned to see Mags face. She shook her head at me one time and then set down to discuss our plans. That was the maddest I ever saw her.

Mags always stood by me. She talked Haymitch, who was still dazzling then, into explaining my new reality now that I had won. I hated him at first, before I discovered the kindness he'd provided with his 'victor's reality camp' as he likes to call it. I have turned to him in the past. I have never seen the sadistic evil in him, until he spoke to Katniss today. Mags should be here instead of him. Katniss could see what a beautiful person she was. She didn't want to be my collaborator, but she wanted Mags. Nothing the girl on fire ever did could impress me like that foolhardy silly move of wanting a leathery old stroked out salt on her team in a Quell. She wanted Mags, cane and all. My pretty face, or my charms do not fool Katniss. She sees me. I saw my death in her eyes out there.

Katniss didn't want to like me. She intended to kill me. It was refreshing. Mags tried hard not to like me too. When I was little, she called me the Mighty Finn-o Pest. My mother alluded that she had much harsher words for me from time to time. There was some diaper difficulty long ago of which I have no memory, but they say she never forgave me. I know better. She even forgave me for cursing us. I cursed her last years and she forgave me. I couldn't carry her and she forgave me. I couldn't save her and she loves me. She even loved me for loving Annie, when everyone else thought so badly of me. She was the one who hushed the tales of Love-Em-and-Leave-Em Finnick Odair to Annie. She watched over my Annie, right to the end.

The rope in my hand dangles limply. I tie and it brings me Mags. Hours pass as I listen to Beetee's heart monitor and Katniss' whimpering sobs. In my hands I find the sea and she begins to calm it for me. My Mags, who taught me to tie, I hear her whisper as I make the motions she passed me: reef, bowline, half-hitch, sheet bend and clove hitch, carrick bends, fisherman bend, halliard, studdingtail, turk's head,…..

_"Every knot on the ship must be perfect Finn-o. There is no excuse to let a mate down because you were careless about your knots. Each one must be given your entire soul so that it will never fail you or your friends. Every knot and every day, they build together and become a life. Unraveled does not mean it can't be retied. You can tie her back if you put your soul into it Finn-o. One bend at a time you can show her the way home." Mags always explained things I had not asked._

Blow yee gusty,

Send me or sail me.

Meet me in morrow,

Find me or fail me.

But red sky or black cloud, I ride briny blue.

Deep water, deep water, me true love for you.

"_**See how the water secretly breaks and swells there, Finn-o? The lighthouse warns you of danger. The shoals are the unforgiving. That brilliance is a warning, not a call. Never think they call you to salvation. Head out to sea for that Finn-o, salvation is found in the deep, not hoping for light. You're a good boy Mighty Finn-o-pest. Fine as Finn little knot head…." **_

Finnick Odair could hear the gulls as he turned toward deep water. They say Mags could calm the sea. He stood up and put his hand on Haymitch's shoulder and gave him a slight look of disapproval. The hard eyes gray eyes soften and without a word he sees the rocks sink. Haymitch finds his heading.

I watch him hold her, and she lets out her sorrow. Mags has calmed the waters. I speak for her now, because I carry her with me to deep water, where salvation meets the sky. I will hang tight and beat to weather.

**Fin**

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><p><strong>Ok what do you think. Reviews appreciated. I have used some odd sentence structure for cadence and beat – trying to create that wave action in words. We will see if it worked.<strong>


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